Celeste
by Lachriel
Summary: No one knows she exists. Until now. And now she's on a mission to restore her father's lost dreams.


Authors Note: Please, please, please don't everybody start saying 'Eww! Mary Sue!" because I promise it's not, even though this particular character is way over-done.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. Duh.  
  
I sat back in my chair, watching the monitor in front of me with only mild interest. I watched every one of my father's duels, but after years without losing a single match, it was becoming rather boring. I learn from them of course, but there were only so many strategies possible with any given deck.  
I take note of the best duelists. When I'm older and allowed to attend Duel Monsters tournaments maybe I'll be able to challenge them. Like my father's opponent today. He's a short boy with wild hair, as many duelists seem to be. He plays well, but I can tell my father will win because the boy seems preoccupied. And, as I said before, Daddy always wins.  
I listen to the duel with only half an ear. I've become quite good at catching important details in this manner while my mind is elsewhere. I want to go wander outside. It's a beautiful day and the forest near our home seems to call to me. Instead I sit and watch the duel. I always do. My father calls me his good luck charm. Sometimes. He doesn't see me very often. I look too much like my mother.  
I'm tall and thin with long blonde curls - just like Mother. I think it would almost be better if I had her eyes too. Then Daddy would either spend more time with me or avoid me completely. Either one would be better than having to watch endless repetitive duels on a screen so that we will have something to talk about in case my father is be able to bring himself to spend enough time with me for us to eat dinner together. But I don't have her eyes. Mine are brown like Daddy's. They're actually quite lovely, like the color of a topaz with the light shining through it, but I hate them. Mother's eyes were blue.  
Once, when he thought I wasn't around, I heard him cursing me. He said that if I hadn't been born that maybe Mother would have lived though her illness. He never even noticed me. I just stood in the doorway with tears in my eyes as he started talking to her. He does that sometimes. He apologized repeatedly for what he'd said, and told her that he loved their silent angel.  
That's something else Daddy calls me. He says angels are silent, or at least the ones in his house. I don't talk much around him. If I do, he doesn't stay long. You see, I sound like Mother too. And when he starts talking about angels, I know he means both of us. I guess she doesn't talk to him much either.  
He thinks he can bring her back. I think he's a little insane sometimes, but I don't care. It gives him a reason to keep on living. But if he could...  
I think about it sometimes, what it would be like to really be a family. I don't know what my mother was like, but she must have been an amazing woman. We would do mother-daughter... stuff. I don't know what that stuff is. Talk about makeup and boys I guess, or cook or something. Christmas and birthdays would be so much more fun. Daddy would be happy again, and he'd paint. He used to be an artist, before Mother died. I've seen paintings of her all over the place. There must be at least a hundred of them in the attic alone. And maybe if Mother were alive, Daddy would duel me.  
He taught me how to play Duel Monsters, but he won't actually have a serious duel with me. My father says he could never play properly against his silent angel. What he means is that he could never play properly against his daughter that looks at him with his dead wife's face and speaks to him with her voice.  
Static cuts across my meandering thoughts and I turn my full attention back to the screen. The duelist had been making a come back, but Daddy hadn't pulled out his most powerful monsters yet, so he wasn't worried and neither was I. But now black and red and purple swirled across the picture before it died completely. I leaned forward and pushed a button, talking into a little speaker beside it.  
"Croquett, the transmission cut out. What's happening?"  
"Just some minor technical difficulties, Miss Pegasus." I frowned at the slightly mechanic voice coming from the intercom. It was some underling. He sounded slightly panicked.  
"Where's Croquett?"  
"He's... busy right now."  
"Should I come down there?"  
"No! Uh... no. Just stay put and we'll have the system up and running again in no time." Something was definitely wrong. 


End file.
